Russian Roulette
by Caitriona3
Summary: Felicity Smoak is an I.T. tech who finds a deadly secret in the heart of her workplace. The safest place for her to turn to? A Captain of the Bratva with deadly secrets of his own.
1. Знакомство с Капитаном

_Author's Note: A new serial type story…because the plot bunnies bit. Translations at the end._

**Знакомство с Капитаном.**

She could still remember when they first entered her life – at least so she could recognize them.

"No."

Her mother's firm voice carried down the hall. Felicity Smoak looked up from her textbook, a frown creasing her brow as she registered the small waver of fear buried beneath that resolute denial. From the day her father left them, Felicity saw her mother in every mood under the sun. Donna Smoak cried and yelled and broke various dishes for a couple of days before she got up one morning, dry eyed and focused on making sure her daughter would not suffer for the lack of a father. She worked long hours in questionable circumstances to give Felicity every chance to succeed. With a letter of acceptance from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology stuck to the refrigerator with a silly magnet, it looked like all of their dreams were on the verge of taking off.

"No."

That definitive tone drew Felicity towards the kitchen. She paused in the hallway, still out of sight of the occupants when another voice began to speak.

"We have always protected our own," a man stated. "We can protect you now."

"My little girl grew up without a father because of his ties to you," Donna replied, bitter condemnation lacing her voice. "Because of the life he lived for you."

"Patrick Lawless chose to steal from the hand that fed him." An older male voice with a hint of shakiness interrupted. "If he had not taken what wasn't his, he'd have had no reason to run. That was not our doing – nor was it our choice. He was good at his work and if he hadn't gotten greedy, he'd be there still."

"I…I don't care!" Donna's voice flared in frustration. "I won't have my daughter mixed up with that kind of lifestyle."

Felicity wavered between continuing to eavesdrop or bursting into the room to confront the strangers when the first man spoke again. "You're about to lose your home," he noted. Her eyes went wide; she knew they were strapped for cash, but she hadn't known it was that bad. "Will your daughter leave when that happens?" He paused. "Even if you convince her, what then? Your little girl might have gotten a scholarship, but how will she live? Think of the jobs available to a full time student. Do you picture such a pretty girl as a bartender…or a cocktail waitress?"

There came the sound of a defeated sigh and Felicity could picture her mother dropping into one of the chairs at their little table. "Why?" Her mother's voice sounded tired, nothing like the angry, determined woman of before. "What could you possibly get out of it?"

"We repay an old debt," the older man answered.

Silence settled on the kitchen at that one sentence. No one spoke and Felicity trembled as she waited. Why? That was what she wanted to know – why would these men – whoever they were – show up to help them out?

As if she could hear her daughter's thoughts, Donna spoke up. "What kind of debt?" she demanded. "And why us?"

"Your husband may have been a traitor and a disappointment, but his father, Hugh Lawless, never wavered, even to the point of sacrificing himself. Mr. Byrne promised to the older Mr. Lawless he would protect his family in return for his service. The man's son didn't deserve it, but your daughter looks to be growing into a fine, strong young woman."

"I don't want her in the life," Donna reiterated.

"We only wish to offer our protection."

Donna scoffed. "And put us in debt to you by covering our bills."

The man disagreed. "You will continue to work wherever you choose," he replied, "we will merely make sure you continue to have a roof over your head. Young Felicity will be in our territory – we will keep her safe. When she graduates she will go her own way. Our debt will then be paid."

Donna capitulated…and Felicity discovered the truth of her father's past with the Winter Hill gang.

All these years later – the memory stood out, crystal clear in the whirlwind of her senior year. Once or twice a year she would get a call from someone about some computer work, but she insisted on a straightforward exchange. They offered a trade of services, but she refused, requiring payment in cash. She might work with them, but she remembered her mother's instructions about not getting tangled into that kind of life. They paid up front for her work and she would complete the contract. Some of it had been questionable, but her arrangement kept her free of obligations.

All that effort, all that work, all that time staying free of the Irish mob…and now Felicity was about to throw herself headlong into an arrangement with the Russian mafia.

Her mother would be so disappointed.

She walked into Big Belly Burger, pulling a breath deep into her lungs as she tried to steady herself for this meeting. Why this place had been chosen she didn't know, but this is where the Bratva captain agreed to meet with a representative from Boston out of courtesy.

"I'm sorry," came a voice from the back. "We're closed!" A man stepped out of the kitchen, eyes calm and focused on her. He stood almost a foot taller than her and the quiet composure made her more nervous than a suspicious glare would have managed.

"Oh," Felicity stammered, "I'm…umm…I'm supposed to…uh…meet someone."

"Пропустите ее."

Her eyes flew to a table in the back. The lights in that area were already off, casting the corner into shadows so she couldn't make out the person sitting there. Her fingers trembled, rustling the files she held in a tight grip, but she forced them to steady as she waited for some kind of signal.

"Впервые в Бостоне?"

"Um…I'm sorry…I don't speak Russian." Felicity bit her lip. "I only managed to get something that sounded kind of like Boston out of that, so I'm guessing you want to know if I'm from Boston? I'm not…well, not since I was like three or something, but I still have…people back there, and did they tell you I was from Boston? Because I don't know why they'd tell you I was from Boston when I've lived here for the past few years."

A rough chuckle brought her to a standstill, and even the tall guard figure at the counter cracked a smile. He nodded towards the shadowed corner, indicating she should go ahead and go over. Taking a deep breath she walked into the darkened area. She took a seat and placed the files on the table in front of her. Silence descended and stretched between them. She fidgeted, clasping her hands on top of the folders. Her eyes focused on them, making sure the shaking she felt wasn't actually visible before turning her gaze up to her…host. Thanks to the dim lighting, she could only see the strong jawline covered with the shadow of a beard, heavier than a five o'clock shadow, but nowhere near a full beard, and a firm, unsmiling mouth. After a moment her eyes dropped to her hands once more. Now that she was here, she didn't know how to begin.

The man across from her tapped the table with calloused fingers. "You requested a meeting, Miss Smoak," he began and her eyes flew up once more, now wide with surprise. One corner of his mouth twitched. "Did you think we would not look into it?" The 'and you' was silent, but deafening.

"No," she replied, and then shook her head. "Well, I didn't think you wouldn't, but I didn't think you'd realize it was me who was meeting you. I mean I didn't arrange for it or anything and Mick told me he hadn't mentioned any names."

"He didn't." The quiet reply dropped between them, but no elaboration followed. Instead her host seemed willing to wait until she gave him her reason for being here.

"Right," she frowned. Felicity hated mysteries and not knowing how they knew her name definitely qualified. It would wait. She needed to get this done. "Right," she repeated, her voice going soft. "So, yes, I'm Felicity Smoak, and I work in the I.T. department at Queen Consolidated." The man's fingers twitched and she bit her lip. "This isn't about the company," she told him, "and I'm not planning on spilling any company secrets, so please don't ask me."

"Why are we here?"

"Sorry, but you have to know how this came together," she answered. "I wouldn't have found out about the situation if I didn't work I.T. at QC. No one would have found out if I didn't work I.T. at QC. I don't know why a company like that has such a subpar I.T. department. Personally I think half my department should be fired and replaced for the sheer lack of ability to keep up with the pace of technology-." She cut herself off. "Never mind, not the point."

"What situation?"

Felicity took a deep breath. "Someone at QC works for the Triad." Her host sat up and although she could not see his eyes, she felt his gaze sharpen, hitting her almost like a laser. One glance around revealed the bodyguard to have come to attention. She waved a hand at the files. "I…I have proof."

The man across from her remained silent and she could see his chest rise and fall as he breathed. His fingers reached towards the files, tapping on them. "Why not go to your boss? Or the police?" he demanded.

"Well, while I'm pretty sure Mr. Steele is as clean as they come, I don't _know_ that," she replied. "And I thought about going to the police," she admitted. "I picked up the phone and started to dial, thinking I could take the proof by the station, but then…" Her voice trailed off.

"But then?" he prompted.

"I…I…Okay, look, I don't work with organized crime," she said in a rush. "I've had brushes, but that was because of family and old debts and I'm not even sure I have the whole story yet because Mick can be a pain in the ass, but I don't work with them. I've done some things for the people in Boston, but those were straight exchanges, computer services for cash, and I haven't done those since I graduated school and moved away." Her hands curled into one another on the table, her nails digging into her skin. "But just because I tried to stay out of it doesn't mean I'm an idiot about it."

His hand moved across the table to rest over hers and she fell silent. "Felicity," he prompted, voice gentle, but unyielding. "Tell me what you know."

"I spotted some odd invasions in the internal QC code," she replied, something about the warmth of his hand and the gentleness of his tone calming her. She didn't think it should have worked that way, but it did. She didn't feel…threatened – she felt…safe. "I went through, line by line, and that takes a really long time, let me tell you, but I finally found it. It's a…hook…kind of like a fishing line I guess. Someone set it up for the Triad and they are using it to extract information on Queen Consolidated."

"How do you know it's the Triad?" This question came over her shoulder from the bodyguard.

"Well, I…I wanted to make sure it wasn't some…prank before I called the police," she told him. "So I traced it and went to see what I could find out."

"You went poking into a Triad location?" The hand on hers tightened and she tried to pull away. "Are you an idiot?"

"Hey! I didn't know it was Triad!" she shot back, stung.

"You knew it was someone illegal!"

"Oh, please, people do this kind of thing all the time," she grumped. "Most of them aren't members of a criminal organization."

"It was still a stupid risk."

Her mouth opened to shoot back a hot retort when the truth of his comment hit her. She deflated, almost slumping into her seat. "I know," she agreed with a shake of her head, "but I needed to know. As soon as I spotted the affiliation, I got out of there."

"And you didn't call the police because…?"

"Because only someone inside QC would have been able to spot that invasion," she told him. "Only someone who knew tech would be able to expose it. And of everyone currently in the I.T. department, I'm the only one who would have been able to trace it." She pulled her hands free of his and brought them up to her face. "It wouldn't take a genius long to figure that out, and if even one person at QC or the police department blew the whistle…" Her voice trailed off once more when a shudder ran down her back.

"You were afraid they'd find you."

"Yes," she admitted.

"So why us?" He leaned back, face still half cloaked in shadow, but she knew he was watching her.

"It was Mick's idea," she explained. "When I realized I might… Well, when I thought of what might happen, I needed advice from someone who actually might have a practical, workable idea. I…I can't just let the Triad gut QC, but I didn't know who to go to and…." She shrugged. "I called Mick."

"Mickey Bryne?"

"Yes, he's…I hesitate to say he's a friend," she told him, "but I don't think acquaintance covers it either. I've…worked for him a couple of times. I figured if anyone could tell me the way to handle it, it would be him. He said they wouldn't have started such an aggressive move in Starling unless they had someone in the station as well as the corporation, so the police was a bad idea. Then he told me the Bratva had a foothold here and would definitely be opposed to any inroads by the Triad." Her fingers started trembling again. "And so…here I am…really hoping I get to…well…dump this in your lap."

The firm mouth tightened and relaxed before one corner pulled up into a half smile. She blinked and stared, a little transfixed. The shadows made it like looking at a man in a mask, and that curve of his mouth should not be intriguing her while she was dealing with this kind of issue. Triad and Bratva and reconnecting with Mick…this was not the time for getting captivated by…

What the hell was she thinking?

She's talking to a _Captain_ of the _Solntsevskaya Bratva_, an as yet unnamed Captain at that!

Giving herself a good mental shake, she touched the files once more. "So…about doing that? The dumping thing I mean?"

"Включите свет." The bodyguard moved towards the back of the room as her conversation partner reached out to place a hand on the files. "We are definitely interested in discussing this," he told her. His mouth twitched into a small smile as she slumped with relief. "I think you will find that we have quite an interest in this information," he continued just as light lit up their corner.

Felicity blinked in the sudden brightness, her head turning towards the bodyguard before glancing back to the man across the table. Her jaw dropped. Her conversational partner, the Bratva Captain recommended by her Irish connections…

Oliver Queen.

_**Translations:**_

_Знакомство с Капитаном. - Meeting the Captain_

_Пропустите ее. - Let her be._

_Впервые в Бостоне? - You are the Boston visitor?_

_Включите свет. - Turn on the lights._


	2. Убежище

_Author's Note: Felicity is going to have to make sacrifices if Oliver is going to keep her safe. This is the first. (Translations at the end)_

**Убежище**

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since her meeting with the Bratva captain who turned out to be Oliver Queen. Dark humor colored Felicity's thoughts for a moment. When those lights came on, her first reaction has been shock, but disbelief followed right on its heels. Oliver Queen, billionaire playboy and heir to the Queen legacy, sat in that booth watching her with amused eyes. When she started to stammer something she's sure would have been both embarrassing and inappropriate, he stopped her by placing his hand over hers on the table once more.

"Не бойся," he told her. "Don't be afraid. I will take care of this, and we will keep you safe. Клянусь."

She had nodded and he arranged for one of his drivers to take her home. That brought a protest to her lips, but he shut that down, informing her that it would be rude of him to make her find her own way home at that time of night. She capitulated and he gave her that little smile once more. The image of his smile stayed with her all evening.

Now, two weeks later, she still waited to see what might happen. No one asked her to remove the hook, and she checked on it regularly. Whatever was happening fell into the shadowy realm of none of her concern, but she couldn't help it. The idea of the Triad being in town and the potential for her to end up in their crosshairs gave her nightmares more than once. One struck her last night, driving her to come into work almost an hour early. At least she'd managed to clear up some backlog – even if her exhaustion seemed to be catching up with her.

Her phone rang. "I.T. Department," she replied, being on call at the moment.

"I need you to send one of the girls up to fix my computer. It keeps freezing up on me."

Felicity rolled her eyes as she noted the caller ID. In her peripheral, she spotted someone step up to her desk. Since no one ever came down to the I.T. department except during annual reviews, she figured it must be another tech with a question. Holding up a finger, she focused on the phone. "Director Gaughin, I can have Jake up there in five minutes." The sound of clacking keys in the cubicles around her stopped and silence settled on the office.

"Oh, I'd rather it be Ivy or Susanne if possible," the director replied. "I trust their work more."

"I'm sorry, director, but they are both tied up with projects at the moment and have been taken off rotation until those projects are complete. I'm sure you would prefer to have your computer in working order much sooner than that. Jake or Vic are the only two currently available." Felicity's voice never lost its professionalism though she would bet an intense dislike radiated from her frown.

A heavy sigh came over the line and a triumphant smile curved her lips as the director gave a reluctant response. "Very well, send the man up. I shall make do."

"Yes, sir, Jake will be there within five minutes." Felicity hung up the phone and then lifted her voice. "Okay, Jake, you're up!" 

"Thanks, Smoak, really," Jake's voice floated through the office, the sarcasm thick and pointed.

"Leave her alone," Ivy's voice shot back. "Least the poisonous old lech won't be trying to peer down your shirt. Appreciate the save, Felicity," she called out.

"Hey, I've got your back, you know that. We've got to protect each other," she chuckled.

"Because if we don't," Ivy started laughing, but the rest of the department chimed in with the final phrase. "No one else will."

Still chuckling, Felicity turned to see who needed help. Her eyes flew open wide and she half rose before letting herself fall back down into her seat. "Mr. Steele," she noted, a wavering note entering her voice. She shifted her gaze to his companion. "And Mr. Queen." Heat rushed to her cheeks as her face flushed in embarrassment and she tried to repress a wince. "I…ah, I…I'm sorry. I didn't realize it was…well, you." Her hands lifted in an aborted waving motion. "I…ah…well, that is…"

"It is quite alright, Miss Smoak." Walter Steele gave her a gentle, though professional smile. "Oliver and I need to speak with you if you have a moment."

"A moment," she repeated before shaking her head. "I definitely have a moment. I have several moments, as many as you need. Actually, would anyone ever tell their boss' boss that they _don't _have a moment? Wouldn't that be-."

"Felicity."

Oliver's soft spoken use of her name brought the babble to a stop and she blinked up at him. "Yes?"

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" he asked, a small smile hovering at his lips.

"Conference room," she replied, pointing towards the back.

He waited for a moment and she frowned up at him. The smile deepened and he raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you coming?"

"Oh!" Felicity stood up, another blush staining her cheeks. "Ivy!" she called over the cubicle wall. "I'm being pulled into a quick meeting. Cover for me?"

"You got it, Fliss."

"I really hate that nickname," Felicity muttered under her breath as she led the two men to the conference room. She flipped on the lights as she entered. Making her way over to the table, she took a seat and watched the men do the same. Silence filled the room and she fidgeted. "Um…you…wanted to speak with me?"

"Miss Smoak," Walter began, "Oliver has informed me of your discovery." Her eyes shot over to the man in question before dropping to the table in front of her. "I wish you had felt comfortable enough to bring it to my attention," he continued, "but I appreciate your security concerns." She shifted in her chair. "Miss Smoak?"

She took a breath and looked up. "Sir?"

"You are not in trouble," he assured her, his gaze steady on hers. "Not with the company, and not with me." Her shoulders relaxed and he smiled for a brief instance. "I wish the rest of our news could be equally as good."

"The…rest?" Felicity stared at him. When his eyes flickered towards his step-son, her gaze followed. Oliver looked at her in silence, his mouth and face carved in hard lines. She swallowed, her nerves ratcheting up once more. "Sir?" she prompted, turning towards Walter once more.

"Due to some…incompetence by a younger member of our…security department, the organization you discussed with Oliver has become aware of our…investigation," Walter replied, choosing his words with clear caution. "Unfortunately this has led them to making some inquiries of their own. While we do not believe they have made any significant finds, we are…concerned as they are aware of _why_ we are looking into them."

She stared at him, feeling the blood drain from her face. Everything froze, her entire body seeming to lock up. The Triad knew…they knew someone found their code, someone who could point the Bratva in their direction. Panic crept up her throat, stealing her breath as she sat there. She could feel the tremors begin in her fingers as her vision began to cloud, narrowing and fixing on a point like the light at the end of a long tunnel.

"Felicity!" Hands clamped down on her shoulders, dragging her around. Oliver's face swam before her eyes. "Felicity, breathe." The order sounded fuzzy in her ears, but the hard shake that followed seemed to snap her awake. "Дыши!"

A second shake loosened her throat and she dragged in a lungful of air. Her own hands came up to clamp over Oliver's wrists as he dropped into a crouch in front of her, his hands still tight on her shoulders. Those intent blue eyes focused on her. "I'm sorry," she murmured, caught in that gaze. Her hands released him, clasping together in her lap.

Something flickered in his face before his mouth softened enough to give her that same small smile. "There is nothing for you be sorry about," he told her. His hands loosened, moving down her arms to grip hers. "I told you I would keep you safe," he reminded her, "and I will."

"I know."

"Good." He released her, rising to his feet once more, but instead of moving back to his previous seat, he pulled a chair over in order to sit down next to her. One of his hands returned to rest on her arm.

Walter cleared his throat and she jumped. She'd almost forgotten the other man was there. What was wrong with her? Oliver's hand tightened on her arm and she glanced back at him, caught once more as his eyes remained steady on her. Amusement colored Walter's voice as he broke the silence once more. "We will need to make some arrangements for your security, Miss Smoak."

Felicity turned to look at him, catching a hint of speculation in his gaze as he moved his eyes from her to Oliver and back. Color rose in her cheeks, but her chin tilted up. "What kind of arrangements?" she asked, proud when her voice remained composed.

"Until we have this little issue locked down and removed, you are in a vulnerable state," Walter replied, giving her a supportive smile when she bit her lip. "We do not believe your apartment to be secure enough for the time being, and we would like to move you somewhere safer for now."

"Safer?" she echoed. "Like…like a safe house…or something?"

"Something like that," Oliver chuckled, humor tinting his gaze. "It is probably the safest house in Starling City."

A frown creased her brow, causing her nose to wrinkle a bit like a child trying to figure out a particularly perplexing riddle. "The safest?" she repeated, drawing out the word. Then she shook her head. "Considering the safest house in the city is probably the Queen mansion, I'm thinking you mean the second safest."

"No," he demurred, the humor turning to wicked mischief. "I mean the safest."

She frowned at him, perplexed, and then her eyes went wide as his meaning penetrated. "You can't be serious!"

"Why not?" he shrugged, smile tugging at his lips.

"I can't move into your house!"

"Miss Smoak," Walter began, one hand coming up in a calming gesture.

"Are you crazy?" she continued, barely registering the attempted interruption.

Oliver raised a brow. "Where did you think we would put you?"

"I don't know!" She shook her head. Her mind spun with the very suggestion of moving into the Queen household. The idea was ludicrous on so many levels, not the least of which involved them being her employers. "But I can't."

"Give me one reason why not."

She gaped at him. "Seriously?" she demanded, her cheeks dusted with color even as her eyes flashed. "I don't know what the world's like in your level of the stratosphere, but when this is over and you take care of everything, I still have to work here!" The flicker of confusion in his eyes made her sigh. "Okay, look, think about this for a moment? Look at it from the average person's point of view…not that someone like you is ever going to be average. People that look like you couldn't be average if they're born dirt poor and…that is not where I need to be going right now."

"Please do," Oliver's lips pulled into a slight smirk.

"Not funny," she told him, poking him in the shoulder. He glanced down at her finger before quirking an eyebrow. Her cheeks warmed, but she managed an eye roll anyway. "Getting back on topic, thank you, when this is over and everything goes back to normal, do you have any idea of the rumors that would be caused if people found out I was in your house? I already have to deal with the creeps of the world. That would go into overdrive, but I'd also gain snippy cattiness that I _don't_ get at the moment."

He stared at her for a couple of heartbeats before shifting his gaze to meet Walter's. The quiet stretched out and Felicity glanced between them, unable to read whatever silent conversation they were having. She fidgeted, her fingers twisting about one another, but he took them in his and held them steady.

"I'm sorry, Felicity," he stated in a voice that managed to be both cool and regretful, "but it's the only way we can be sure we can keep you safe."

Walter nodded. "These people will be ruthless, Miss Smoak," he acknowledged. "They will not be overly concerned with collateral damage – such as your neighbors."

Her eyes grew wide. "I never thought…oh God, I never thought about…" Tremors shook her hands as her voice trailed away.

"There was no reason for you to think that way," Oliver replied, his voice growing gentle. His hands tightened on hers. "That's my job."

"But-," she started.

"Mine."

His voice left no room for argument, so she let it go. Instead she returned to the plan to move her into the Queen household. "I…" She blew out a breath before moving her gaze from Oliver to Walter and back. "I guess there's not much choice."

"I am sorry, Miss Smoak-."

"No," she interrupted. "No. It's not your fault." Her shoulders slumped and her eyes dropped. "I really kind of like being alive and healthy, so I guess I'll just have to put up with the creepiness and the cattiness and get over it. It won't be the first time I've been on the wrong end of the gossip chain."

"Felicity-."

"Really," she talked over whatever Oliver was trying to say. "I'll be fine. I'm a good tech, the best one here, and I know that sounds like bragging, but I don't think it's bragging if it's true and if I'm not rubbing someone's face in it. So I deal with attitudes from time to time, and I'll…I'll get over it."

"Your job will not suffer for this," Walter told her, "that much I can promise you."

"Just my work relationships?" she replied, lips curving into a sad smile. Then she gave herself a shake, lifted her chin, and moved to stand up. "No, I'll be fine. I can do this."

Oliver moved with her, releasing her hands as he did so. "Let's go."

"What? Now?"

"There's no time like the present," he shrugged.

She shook her head. "But…I have work! I still have half a day to go!"

"I believe I can assure you that your supervisor will not quibble over a mere half day," Walter offered with a smile.

Oliver nodded at him and began to draw her out of the room. She huffed, but moved over to her desk and shut down her station. Grabbing her computer, she moved to poke her head into Ivy's cubicle. "I have to go deal with something," she told her. "I'll be back on Monday."

"Are you okay?" Ivy asked, turning to look at her. The woman's dark eyes went wide with surprise and Felicity didn't even need to turn around to know Oliver stood behind her.

"Yes, I'm fine," she replied. "I'll see you Monday."

"Monday," Ivy nodded, an eyebrow going up as her curious gaze swept between Felicity and Oliver. "Right."

Felicity's smile turned tight as she walked past Oliver into the hallway outside of the department. "Oh, good," she muttered as the door closed. "They've started already."

His hand on her shoulder drew her to a stop. "It's-."

"I know," she sighed, "I know…it's for my own good, for my own safety." Two fingers pinched the bridge of her nose before she offered him an apologetic look. "I don't want this to sound rude or judgmental, and it's going to come off as both, but your life is your life and you need to live it however you see fit, but in this particular instance, I could wish your reputation wasn't quite so…so…well known."

Discomfort flashed across his face. "And now you'll be stained by it," he nodded, "For that, I am sorry."

"Don't," she waved it off. "I could wish it didn't have to be this way, but you're doing this to keep me safe. If that means I have to take a small hit in the gossip blogs, then that's what it means." A thought crossed her mind and she laughed. "If the creepy guys start getting creepier though, I am totally going to use your name as a threat, okay?"

Oliver blinked and then his chest rumbled with a rough chuckle. "Or you could give me their names," he suggested, "and let me handle it."

"Handle it?" Felicity lifted a brow at him. "Handle it how?"

A sharp smile crossed his face even as he ushered her forward once more. "My way," came the simple reply. His hand came to rest at the small of her back as he walked alongside her. "And I can assure you," he continued, "you wouldn't have to worry about them any longer."

They stepped outside into the sunlight before she could formulate any reply and he began speaking in rapid-fire Russian to the bodyguard waiting for them. She could only shake her head as she stood beside them.

"Seriously," she murmured, "how is this my life?"

_**Translations:**_

_Убежище. – The Safe House_

_Не бойся. – Don't be afraid._

_Клянусь. – I swear it._

_Дыши! – Breathe!_


	3. Младшая сестра

_Author's Note: Felicity wasn't sure what her expectations were when it came to living in the Queen household, but this...this connection with Thea Queen would not have been one of them. (Translations at the end.)_

**Младшая сестра**

Living in the Queen residence proved to be as much of a public disaster as she'd feared. Rumors and gossip always spread like wildfire through most of the city, and especially in the corporate office, and the juiciest of them all centered on the tabloid-worthy lives of the Queens, particularly the siblings. Right now the tabloids focused on party-girl Thea with her penchant for being at every party in Starling City. They kept trying to focus on Oliver, but he didn't cooperate. Everyone remembered Oliver as a partier and a playboy, always making news of some kind. She wasn't sure who was more disappointed when he disappeared – his groupies or the money-grubbing paparazzi. His shocking return five years later startled everyone, but he had become much more of a recluse. The lack of newsworthy behavior didn't convince anyone he had changed – they all just thought he'd learned discretion.

The bubble of the ultra-rich and powerful could be both blessing and curse.

Now Felicity seemed to have stepped inside that bubble. After all, hadn't everyone seen her leave work with Oliver Queen on that memorable Friday afternoon? Didn't her neighbors mention seeing her whisked away from her apartment in an expensive black car? Had she not been chauffeured back to work on Monday morning?

Whether impressed or distressed by her apparent 'landing' of the heir to the empire, everyone felt she overstepped some invisible boundary. Even though Oliver did not actually work for the company, they assumed she intended to use her presumed relationship to curry favor and improve her position. Nothing she said could persuade them they were wrong about the whole thing. It was a little hard to argue when a driver dropped her off each morning and waited to take her home. Her work relationships began to shatter one by one.

On the other hand, living there proved to have its own brand of charm as well. People included her, folding her into the daily life of the household without blinking an eye. They expected her to participate in activities such as family dinners and to give her opinions in conversations ranging from art and literature to politics and business. She finally got to meet Oliver's bodyguard/driver, John Diggle, who insisted she call him Dig. She couldn't decide if he liked her or not. Walter continued to treat her with a professional respect, though she noticed him using her first name at the house. It still startled her, and she had not yet been able to bring herself to call him by his first name. Although part of that was because she was afraid she would slip up at the office…and that wouldn't be good for anyone.

Moira Queen took her aside within hours of her arrival to express her gratitude at what she called Felicity's courage in trying to find a way to protect the company. Felicity tried to argue, but Moira would not hear of it.

"No, no, my dear," she smiled, giving a shake of her head. "You could have ignored it, it certainly would have been safer for you. Instead you considered your choices and made what must have been a difficult decision."

Felicity flushed. "Mrs. Queen, I-."

"Call me Moira," the older woman offered. "You put yourself into danger to protect my children's legacy, I think it's the least I can offer."

Felicity found it peculiar in so many ways to be on a friendly, first-name basis with the Queen matriarch. Moira treated her as a welcome guest, warm and inviting, dropping pieces of advice or information whenever they spoke. It just seemed so bizarre. How was this her life?

Then came the family's wild child – Oliver's little sister, Thea. Felicity met the high school senior on her first day in the house when the teenager came bursting into Oliver's study, ranting about one of her bodyguards and his detrimental effect on her social life. Her commentary came to a halt as she spotted Felicity sitting across from Oliver. Thea rolled her eyes at her brother. "Since when did you start bringing your flavor of the month home?"

A dark frown crossed Oliver's face, but he didn't get the chance to speak.

"Excuse me?" Her icy tone seemed to surprise both siblings, but Felicity only had eyes for Thea at that moment as she rose to her feet, unable to remain seated. "I don't care who you are, I am no man's 'flavor'."

"It's not like Oliver has any female friends," Thea replied, chin lifting in a haughty tilt.

"So you automatically jump to assuming a strange woman in the house is some kind of floozy?" Felicity demanded.

Thea jumped up, mouth opening and a hot retort obviously ready, when Oliver stood up. "Достаточно!" Thea's mouth snapped closed and she slumped back into her seat with a pout. Felicity didn't bother. She turned her glare on him instead and he sighed. "Felicity is here as a guest," he told his sister. "She is under the family's protection."

"Okay," Thea drew out the word, suspicion still lining her voice. "Why?"

"Don't worry about it," Oliver replied as he sat back down. Now Felicity rolled her eyes and he frowned. "What?"

"You just told an outspoken, passionate teenager that a strange woman she's never met before will be staying in the same house for protection and further informed said outspoken, passionate teenager that she shouldn't worry about why thus implying she didn't need to know." Felicity waved a hand at him. "And you fully expect her to drop it!" She looked at Thea as she sat down, still not happy with the girl's comments, but willing to try and meet her half way for the sake of peace in the household. "Does that actually work in this house?"

"No, not really," Thea's lips twitched in amusement. "I just let him think that."

"That I buy," Felicity nodded. She sighed. "Thea, believe me when I say this was not my first choice, but I…I can't deal with the situation on my own, and it's dangerous for me, so Oliver and Walter decided I needed to be here until they can handle things." Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Best we can do is to try to stay out of each other's way."

Thea shook her head. "No way," she replied. Felicity's surprise must have been clear on her face because the teenager laughed. "Anybody that can glare my brother into making an explanation and put him on the spot like that? That's someone I need to get to know."

Oliver rubbed his forehead. "Возможно это была плохая идея." Felicity frowned, but Thea gave him a wicked grin.

Despite the less than auspicious beginning, Thea became one of Felicity's more frequent guests in the house. The younger woman would often seek her out in the evenings after dinner, talking about her day, her homework, and her various friendships. Sometimes they wouldn't talk at all – Thea would flip through her magazines or do her reading assignments in the library where Felicity worked on various codes and technical proposals. That led to one of the most eye-opening moments between the two.

"Hey, Felicity, got a few minutes?"

Felicity looked up at Thea's voice, a ready smile coming to her face. "For you? Always." She waved the younger woman in. A small frown furrowed her brow as she took in Thea's uncertain expression. "What's up?"

"I hate to bother you, but…" Thea's voice trailed off. She shrugged, dropping her backpack under the table as she let herself fall into the chair next to Felicity.

"You're not bothering me," Felicity hastened to assure her. "Tell me about whatever it is and let's see what we can do to fix it."

Thea chuckled. "Homework," she admitted. "It's nothing big, just…homework."

"I don't know," Felicity smiled. "I remember homework being a pretty big thing when I was in school."

"Yeah, but…" Thea waved one of her hands. "It's not work or family, it's just school."

"It's your work," Felicity frowned. "Right now that means it should be as important as anything one else's job. And because it's yours that makes it family." Something in Thea's voice and expressions got Felicity's hackles up, but that could wait for another time. "Come on; show me what you've got."

"Really?"

"Yes, of course." Felicity pushed her work to one side and patted the now empty space. "Let's see it."

Thea flashed one of her brilliant smiles before pulling out a notebook. "It's for history," she explained. "We have to pick an important date from at least fifty years ago and then explain how it's impacting us today."

"Was that a quote?" Felicity chuckled.

"Pretty much." Thea gave a mock shudder. "I don't even know where to start. I mean, yeah, I get it. This stuff happened and it all led to today, but how do you figure trace that kind of influence."

"Oh," Felicity gave her a bright smile, "I think I can help you there."

They spent the next two hours discussing history and current events with Thea scribbling notes and ideas into her notebook. Felicity assisted in finding sources of information and suggesting ways to make the paper more acceptable to the teacher. Neither of them paid any attention to the passing of the time until one of the servants came to call them to dinner. Felicity eyed her young companion as they began to put their things in order.

"Thea, may I ask you something?" Felicity didn't want to upset the now-smiling girl, but something about this situation bothered her.

"Sure," Thea shrugged, looking up to meet Felicity's gaze.

"Why did you seem to think I wasn't going to help?"

Thea sat back, her arms coming up to cross over her chest as the smile dropped from her face. She stared at Felicity for a long moment. After a beat of silence, her head dropped and her voice fell to a mutter. "Because no one ever has time."

Felicity touched her arm. "Oh, I'm sure-."

"No!" Thea interrupted her. "They don't. Oliver's always busy with business or vanishing off to wherever he goes these days. Mom's having her meetings and working with her charities. Walter's usually working. No one has time."

Something about the way the girl held herself so still tugged at Felicity more than the lonely sound in her voice. She reached over and put her arms around the younger girl, not tight enough to trap her, but just enough to offer her some support. Thea stiffened at the first contact, but when Felicity just held her, the girl let herself go soft, inch by inch, until her head rested on Felicity's shoulder. It took a little while, but she managed to tease Thea back into a smile before they went their separate ways.

That encounter led her on a direct path to a more heated meeting with Oliver.

"Look, I'm not trying to tell you how to handle your family-."

"Then stop," Oliver told her, his mouth a harsh slash across his face. No humor softened those lines as he towered over her.

"I can't," she replied, her voice soft but determined. Fury flashed through his eyes, but she barreled ahead. "I can't," she repeated in a stronger tone, "because Thea's lonely." His shoulders twitched and the frown deepened. She bit her lip, worrying at it. "She was shocked, Oliver, completely shocked that I would take the time to help her with her homework." Bewilderment entered her gaze. "That…that's just…not right! She shouldn't feel like it's some kind of…of bad thing to ask for help with homework."

He rubbed his chin with one hand, lips still firm with unhappiness, but something else began to flicker in his eyes. "We've been busy-."

"Too busy for your sister?" she demanded.

The flicker turned into fury before it burned itself into frustration as he struggled to contain his reaction. "You don't understand," he started.

"No, no I don't," she agreed. Her hands came up, moving and waving in agitation. "I mean, I get it – I get that Walter's got all the CEO responsibilities and the business, and that Moira's constantly running around between social obligations and charity work and I don't even know what all, and can I say I'm thrilled that's not my life because I couldn't handle the insanity of being in the public eye all that much? I can barely deal with the gossip rags now, let alone…okay, not where I was going with this." She took a deep breath and tried again. "And yes, I know that you've got the…the…the _other_ family business to deal with on top of whatever you're still working through from whatever happened." He stiffened, but she threw up a hand. "And I am not asking!" she hurried to assure him. "That's your business and you don't need random people poking into it. I just pointed out that I know you're still dealing with it." Her eyes widened in emphasis and she stepped closer to him, putting a hand on his arm. "But Thea's dealing with it too. She's dealing with a brother she barely recognizes on top of a family whose schedule makes the White House look easy. She's getting lost in the shuffle…and she knows it. You're going to lose her before you even realize she's drifting away!"

Oliver stared at her in silence and Felicity bit her lip once more. Her heart rate picked up as her nerves stretched in the quiet. The frustration in his gaze shifted, sliding through various emotions so fast she couldn't keep track. Something settled in his eyes, but she still couldn't place it. "And what would you suggest?"

"I don't know," she frowned, puzzled. "She's your sister."

"With all that fire and insistence and judgment, you don't have a single suggestion?"

"Okay, wait," she shook her head. "I didn't mean…" Her voice trailed off, concern filtering into her voice as she replayed her words. "Oh, God, I did kind of sound judgmental, didn't I? Oh…oh…that wasn't…okay, well maybe a little…sort of? It's not that I want to be, because I don't, it's just…. You didn't see her, Oliver! She looked so…so…_defeated_. So…well, so not Thea."

His hand came up to cover hers where it still rested on his arm. "You're getting along with her, aren't you?"

"It's hard not to like Thea," Felicity managed a smile. "Or, at least it's hard when she wants you to like her. I think-." She cut herself off.

"What?" he asked, eyes intent on hers even as he let a hint of teasing into his voice. "Don't be shy now." She tried to look away, but his free hand caught her chin and turned her face back to him. "What do you think?"

"I think she's acting out, doing all of her crazy parties…I think she's doing it because she wants attention, any attention." The words came out of her in a rush.

"By getting into trouble?"

Memories, both good and bad, tugged at her, turning her smile bittersweet. "Take it from someone who's been there," she told him. "Bad attention from your family is better than no attention."

His eyes narrowed, examining her, and she became very aware of their position – standing too close with one of his hands still holding her chin. "What-?" he began, but stopped as pleading filled her gaze.

"Please," she said, trying to pull back. "Can we not? Not right now?"

He held her in place, hands tightening on her for a brief moment as he stared down at her. "We will discuss this later," he agreed, letting her go. She stepped back, taking the chance to regroup as he spoke once more. "Do you have any recommendations for my sister?"

"Spend some time with her," she told him once she felt she could speak without her voice wavering. He lifted a brow at her and she shrugged. "It doesn't have to be much. Watch a movie, go for a drive or a walk, maybe…I don't know…take her to the zoo?" Her hands came up in a helpless motion. "Something you both like to do?"

He nodded, a considering look settling on his face. "I'll have to think about it," he told her. Her own eyes narrowed and he lifted a hand. "I promise, I'll think about it."

"Okay," she agreed. "That's all I ask." Silence fell as their gazes locked. After a moment, she managed to give herself a mental shake. "I should…probably let you get back to…work." She smiled and began to leave.

"Felicity?"

She turned back to meet the half-smile that tugged at her every time. "Yes?"

"Спасибо." His smile grew as she frowned at him.

"I still don't speak Russian, you know," she reminded him.

Now the smile turned teasing. "I know." Oliver turned back to his desk, leaving her to stare at him for a long moment before she walked out of the room, shaking her head in exasperation.

"I swear, he does that on purpose, just to make me crazy," she muttered. The rough chuckle behind her brought a blush to her face she could tell, but she kept walking, refusing to acknowledge any reaction – not the heat in her cheeks, and certainly not the catch in her breath.

She did _not;_ repeat _**not**_ need to become attracted to Oliver Queen.

_**Translations:**_

_Младшая сестра - Little Sister_

_Достаточно! - Enough!_

_Возможно это была плохая идея. - This may have been a bad idea._

_Спасибо. - Thank you._


	4. кошмар

_Author's Note: The person who provided me with my Russian translation appears to have deleted their account, so I'm back to depending on the internet. If my uses are incorrect, please let me know so I can change them. You'll find the translations I'm working with in the end notes. _

**кошмар**

Felicity sat up in bed, gasping for breath as she throttled back a scream. A trembling hand scrabbled for the lamp switch and tear-filled eyes flashed to every shadow, scanned every corner as golden light flooded through the room. It felt as though her heart would gallop right out of her chest, it beat at such a fast pace. "Nightmare," she murmured to herself. "Just a nightmare."

Just a nightmare…again…for the third time in a week.

The thought crossed her mind – as it had before, as it would again – to wonder if she was going to make it until the Triad was driven out of Starling City. How long had she been living here now? Three months…maybe a little more? She knew it would take time, knew they couldn't just flip a switch and make everything better, but the longer she remained, the more she worried. Everyday her life grew more and more entwined with the Queens…and this wasn't her world. She didn't belong in the world of the ultra-rich, ultra-famous, and ultra-powerful. Felicity Meghan Smoak belonged in her middle-class, computer cubicle doing her best to work her way towards a better place and a better salary while doing a job she loved. Instead she spent time reworking the security system with the guards. She found herself playing sounding board for Walter Steele and his ideas for the technology department. Some evenings she would spend the entire time helping Moira make phone calls to line up volunteers and donations for this or that charity. More important, she found herself stepping in as the big sister to a brilliant, mischievous teenage girl who couldn't seem to connect with her own family anymore – though that seemed to be changing when it came to Oliver. He'd taken Felicity's advice and started doing things with his sister throughout the week, some planned, some not, but Thea blossomed and sparkled with the attention.

Oliver appeared to be relaxing as well with each new outing or activity.

"At least I made some kind of difference," she muttered, worried about how to make sure the two of them kept making time for each other. Thea needed to know she was important while Oliver needed the reminder that work wasn't everything – no matter how important. Then she shook her head. "What am I doing?" she wondered out loud. "This isn't my family!"

Oliver himself featured most prominently in her life now. She saw him every day. No matter the day, he made sure to have breakfast with her and then handed her off to whichever guard drew her for protection duty. Once in a while he would call her at work with a question, having long since discovered her ability to ferret out the strangest bits of information on the internet. Some of it wasn't exactly…open to all and sundry, but he just gave her a half smile and thanked her for her help. She swore she could even hear that smile over the phone because his voice always shifted into the same tone – a tone she didn't hear him use with anyone else…although a hint of it could be heard when he talked to Thea.

She brushed away the thought of becoming as important to him as his sister. It was a ludicrous idea.

One day she walked into the gym with some information he needed and found him working out – shirtless and barefoot. The image still stuck out in her mind for various reasons, not the least of which was the sheer visual appeal and sense of power surrounding him. She saw the scars and the tattoos as well, but they weren't really enough to pull her attention away from the cut of his figure. It took him a minute or two to get her attention, and she could also remember the smirk he wore that didn't quite hide a shadow of insecurity. (Thea later told her that his former girlfriend had reacted badly to all of his scars the first time she saw them. Felicity just shook her head.) She remembered turning red and stammering something along the lines of an apology that turned into something else with two or three unexpected innuendos. She still felt embarrassed about them, but since they'd wiped out the shadow in his eyes, she could live with a little humiliation. He'd started calling her more often when he was in the private gym and she couldn't help but wonder if he liked seeing her reaction to him working out.

"And shirtless too, thank goodness," she murmured and then groaned.

Please God…she needed sleep.

She tried reading, but the words blurred together on the page so she gave up. Television only held her attention for a few minutes more as she flipped through the stations trying to find something, anything to watch. A stupid, low-budget sci-fi flick would have worked, but it seemed like it was too late even for the late-late movie showings. She threw back the covers and sat up. Her body almost vibrated with opposite needs – she needed to sleep and she needed to move. Even before she realized what was happening, she found herself pacing the room as her mind flipped through ideas to tempt her out of her fear and back into sleep.

Nothing came to mind – nothing that she thought would work. She growled in frustration, tossing the pillow in her hand to the floor. Her gaze followed the flight and the robe on the back of her chair drew her attention. Quick steps ended there and she pulled the thick covering over her nightclothes. Usually the sight of her pajama bottoms and their cartoonish characters would pull out a smile, but tonight it just wasn't working. Her mind seesawed between the library and the kitchen for her destination. The kitchen meant some cocoa, maybe with a little extra zip, but the library meant getting lost in looking at all of the books.

"Library," she decided. She would try that first before making a mess in Raisa's kitchen.

Her footsteps made no sound as she made her way towards the library. The thick carpet muffled everything. It sometimes struck her, the oddity of her being in the Queen mansion. Their carpets felt more comfortable than some of the cots she used to crash on when working night shifts. She gave a small sniff of amusement; one thing about her current living situation – her supervisor seemed terrified at the thought of sticking her with any of the night shifts these days. There had been one…two guards accompanied her and then Walter showed up at midnight for a surprise visit. It had added to her 'gold-digging' reputation, but the look on her boss' face might have made up for it.

Incompetent self-important twit.

"Felicity?"

The voice caused her to jump and she spun towards the open door. She realized she just passed Oliver's study. Backtracking her footsteps with a small wince, she stepped into the room. Oliver sat behind his desk, curiosity in his expression as he looked at her. Her lips quavered as she tried to smile and his focus intensified. The small smile fell off his face as he came to his feet.

"Oliver? What-?" Her eyes widened and she almost pulled back as he stalked up to her.

"Are you hurt?" he demanded, one hand coming up to clasp her chin. The pressure of his fingers compelled her to look up at him. Incipient fury began to kindle in his gaze.

"No," she replied, confusion lacing through her voice.

"Then what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she tried to shake her head, but he refused to let go of her chin.

"Do not lie to me, Котёнок." His frown deepened and he shifted his hold so he could brush a thumb under one eye. "You've been crying." Color stained her cheeks as she brought a hand up to try and scrub at the tear tracks. He caught her hand, scanning her face once more before fixing his gaze on hers. "Talk to me, Felicity."

She closed her eyes, squeezing them shut for a moment before a sigh escaped from her and she blinked back up at him. "Nightmares," she admitted, voice dropping. "I've been having nightmares."

Concern showed in his taut lips. "What kind of nightmares?"

"Shadows," she murmured. A shudder ran through her. "Shadowy figures and the light flashing off metal." Her breath caught and it felt like a chain curled around her, preventing her from drawing in a deep breath at all. "I…I…" Her voice trailed off and her vision blurred as new moisture pooled in her eyes. "I hate nights," she admitted. "I can't…I can't hold back the…the fear anymore."

"тише, hush, little one." One tug pulled her against him as strong arms curled around her. Her head came to rest against his chest and she could hear the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear. "Не бойся. Don't be afraid." She felt him begin to brush her hair with his hand. Calloused fingers caught on the blonde strands, but she didn't care. As long as she could stay here, surrounded and safe, then she was content. He ducked his head and warm breath tickled the soft hair by her ear. "You're safe here," he whispered. "I promised, remember? You're safe. Клянусь. Trust me."

Felicity felt something inside of her unknot and relax at his words. "I trust you." Her hands twisted into his shirt, holding on as she leaned into him. Closing her eyes, she let herself be soothed by the sound of his voice, the feel of his hand on her hair, and the beat of his heart.

"Come," he said after a few moments. "Let's sit down." His arm encircled her waist as they sat down, pulling her against him to rest on his shoulder. Her eyelids grew heavy as she sank into his side. She felt drowsy with the warmth and safety he exuded. Serenity rolled through her as he continued to comb through her hair with his fingers and she never knew when sleep overtook her.

Later, however much later, she blinked at the strangeness of her view. She didn't remember lying down, but now she found herself staring at Oliver's desk from a decidedly sideways position. He wasn't sitting at it though. Something seemed peculiar, and her pillow felt much too firm. She shifted to lie on her back and found herself looking into Oliver's amused smirk. One hand had been resting on her arm before she moved while the other held some papers. "Feeling better?" he asked.

"Mmm, hmm." She hummed a little, beginning to stretch. Lethargy sapped her of the will to move too much. "I can't believe I fell asleep like that."

"You needed it."

Something in his tone made her suspicious and she peered up at him. It took a moment, but she realized she was looking up at him – straight up.

And her head rested on Oliver's thigh.

"Oh! Oh, my God, I am so sorry!" Felicity sat up. She could feel the blush spreading, probably all the way to her toes. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean-."

"Calm down," he chuckled as he put down his paperwork. "It didn't bother me."

"Right, right." Biting her lip, she looked away.

He reached out and turned her back towards him. One thumb ran across her lip, pulling it out from her teeth. "I'm honored you trusted me enough to rest," he assured her.

She tried to duck his gaze, her lower lip catching on her teeth once more. Again he moved to soothe it back out. Her mind grasped at a way to distract her from the intimacy of his actions. "What are you reading?" she asked.

"It's a schedule," he replied. "We'll be going to Central City next week for a meeting."

"You're leaving?" Felicity sat up straight, eyes widening. Her hands shook for a moment, the idea of him being gone causing her fear to spike, but she pushed the nerves away. "How long…how long will you be gone?"

He shook his head, his hand reaching out to take one of hers. "_We _will be leaving," he noted. "And we will be gone for a few days."

"We?"

"The entire family will be going," he told her. "It's a...sit-down between two families."

"Ah," she nodded. "I understand." She remembered some of the sit-downs back in Massachusetts. They tended to be cordial, diplomatic meetings between groups to discuss various business opportunities or potential conflicts. It was a good way to try and head off problems before they led to blood in the streets. "Wait…I'm not-."

"You're going." His voice took on a resolute edge. "The entire household was invited and you are part of this household."

"For the moment," she added, a longing she never expected tugging at her. She shouldn't want to belong to the household. Hadn't she spent years avoiding becoming entangled in the Irish version of this? When they drove out the Triad, she would be going back to her apartment…and the idea already caused a dull ache in her chest. "For the moment," she repeated in a whisper.

Something unreadable crossed his face. "It's late." He rose to his feet and held out a hand to help her up. "You should get some more rest – if you think you can sleep now?"

She nodded and let him lead her out of the room.

Oliver accompanied Felicity upstairs, pausing outside of her bedroom door. 'Her' bedroom door…she blinked as the thought occurred to her and Oliver raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"I just…" She shook her head. "I was thinking earlier that sometimes it strikes me as odd, my being here I mean." A small chuckle escaped her. "But now…I thought of this as my bedroom door."

"It is your bedroom," he replied, his confusion growing.

"Yes, but…it's your house," she pointed out. "I'm…a guest."

"You're more than a guest." His hand came up to brush a lock of hair back from her face. Now her head tilted in question and he smiled. "Look at all you do here," he told her, his voice pitched low and intent. "You help Thea with her homework any time she needs it and you never mind answering her questions about your work."

"Okay, sure, but-."

"Walter enjoys discussing literature with you," he interrupted. "Mother is ecstatic to finally have someone who enjoys looking at artwork as much as she does."

"And that's been wonderful on my side too," she hurried to explain.

"Raisa, a woman who never gives out her private recipes, has given you three already."

Felicity stared at him. "How could you possibly know that?"

"I have my ways," he answered, a teasing glint in his face. "The security staff is ready to claim you walk on water."

"That's just because I rewired their computer system." She gave a mock shudder. "Honestly, Oliver, that system hurt my soul." Her hands came up in a shrug. "You're making me sound like some kind of wonder worker," she noted with a bewildered air, "when I'm anything but! I help Thea and answer her questions, but really, she's a curious teenager and God only knows I remember being one of those. It's not like it's a big hassle to spend time with her unless she's in a mood." She pursed her lips. "Art and literature…well, there are some things I know and enjoy, but Walter and Moira can both talk rings around me. Raisa…all I did was ask and she gave them to me. Maybe people just never said please?" Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Those things aren't big things – they're what people do, you know? I'm a computer nerd. Mint chocolate chip ice cream and a night of Doctor Who or Sherlock Holmes make my night. Fancy parties and dinners confuse me. I talk too much, I say the worst things at exactly the wrong times, and-."

"And you belong with us." Oliver's words caused her mouth to snap shut and she ducked her head. He took a step towards her, crowding in close, and used a finger to lift her chin so their eyes met. "You belong with us," he repeated. "You make me smile. I don't have to hide any part of myself from you because you don't flinch. You're honest with me. It's refreshing to have someone stand up to me with the truth and not hide or suck up. You tell me the truth – whether I want to hear it or not; whether you want to admit it or not." He shook his head, affection warming his smile. "Do you know how rare that honesty is to a man like me?"

"Oliver," she breathed out, not sure if she were agreeing or arguing, but she stopped when he shook his head.

"That is your bedroom," he told her. "That will be your bedroom even after this is over – even if you return to your apartment. You will forever have a place in this family…under my roof." He let go over her chin only to cup her cheek. "You belong with us." Their eyes locked for a long moment before his hand slid around to the back of her neck. He pulled her forward that last bit of space and her eyes fell closed as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You belong here, but for now you need sleep."

A sheen of tears glistened in her eyes as she opened them. "Good night, Oliver."

He stepped back, a new look in the depths of his gaze. "Сладких снов, Солнышко."

_Russian Translations:_

_Котёнок - Kitten, little cat_

_тише - Hush_

_Клянусь - I swear it._

_Сладких снов - Sweet dreams_

_Солнышко - Sunshine, little sun_


	5. Искры

_Author's Note: This one was tough, but I needed it to happen. It's going to jumpstart a couple of things. Please enjoy! As per usual, translations are thanks to nerrisdk and are at the end. I'm sorry if this is difficult for you, but I always hate when translations break up the flow of the story. In addition, this story is from Felicity's point of view and she doesn't understand Russian as yet. Most of the Russian is repeated in English or consists of pet names and minor words._

Искры

"Not interested." Thea's voice trembled. The sound, so uncommon for the passionate teenager, drew Felicity's attention. She had been waiting near the concierge while Thea decided to wander around the lobby. The two of them came downstairs to wait for Moira as the three women intended to have lunch and get a little shopping done in the boutiques of Central City before the formal dinner later that evening. Thea had been excited, already planning for what type of dress she wanted to wear – most of which Moira vetoed – and what she planned to get for Felicity.

Now the girl looked spooked, however hard she tried to hide it.

"Thea?" She stepped forward, brow furrowing as her concern spiked as she watched her friend pulling away from a slickly sophisticated guy who looked around the same age as Thea.

"Felicity!" Thea's hands wrapped around Felicity's arm. "Is Mother ready to go?"

With one slow blink, she took in the younger woman's anxiety and her offered excuse. "They're finishing up," Felicity agreed, going along with her obvious wishes. "I thought to collect you so we don't keep her waiting."

"That's great!"

"You can't run off on me now." The young man went to touch Thea's arm.

"Don't, Paolo." She pulled away, her motion jerky and violent. "We have to go."

"Yes, we certainly do." Felicity started to turn away. "You'll excuse us."

"This doesn't concern you." Paolo glanced over before dismissing her to refocus on Thea. "Come on, Thea. There's a great party going on."

She shifted so her body half blocked Thea's from view. "Thea clearly wants to remain with her family," she informed him, lips thinning in her annoyance. Thea's unhappy eyes combined with the death grip on her arm convinced Felicity that this Bianchi creep was bad news. His egotistical attitude did nothing to help. She had no intention of letting the guy continue to make the younger woman uncomfortable. "You need to leave her alone."

"It's none of your business." His eyes swept over Felicity in long, slow, deliberate inspection, lingering on the hem of her dress before returning to eye her with a contemptuous glare. One hand waved her off. "Go away."

"Thea is my friend and you are making her uncomfortable," she replied as her eyes narrowed. Felicity knew she should probably find a more diplomatic way to do this, but then Thea's hand trembled. "So I am making it my business." One eyebrow went up in absolute scorn. "And I don't take orders from you."

"Queen should bring you to heel." Paolo turned to Thea. "Your brother's lack of control doesn't say much for your family, does it? Does he let his whores get above themselves like this often?"

Felicity felt the color drain from her cheeks and it was all she could do to prevent herself from taking a step backwards. She knew…oh, she knew what people thought of her when it came to the Queen family, and Oliver in particular, but she never thought someone would dare to be so open about their suspicions. The idea that someone might throw the idea into the public square, announcing it to all and sundry never even occurred to her.

"How dare you?!" Thea's incensed shriek drew attention from everyone in the lobby. Heads turned and voices murmured. "How dare you call her that?"

"What?" Paolo shrugged. "Everyone knows what he is like. I didn't think he'd insult you and your mother by bringing one so openly, but maybe you Queens are different." A hint of speculation drifted into his gaze as he stared at Thea.

Anger flashed through the young woman's eyes like lightning across a stormy sky. "You're not fit to speak my brother's name," she all but hissed at him. "And I would suggest you apologize before he finds out."

"Before he finds out what?"

Felicity's eyes fell closed as Oliver's voice, cold and hard, entered the conversation. She opened them once more as he stepped up beside her, his hand coming to rest at the small of her back. Her eyes met his for a brief moment before his gaze shifted to take in the entire tableau. A half-wit could figure out that something about Paolo bothered both women – and no one ever accused Oliver of being slow on the uptake. It must be quite the picture – Thea, of all people, clinging to Felicity's arm as Felicity stood shielding her from a man.

"What happened?" Oliver's voice left no room for argument as he turned to his sister.

"This is Paolo Bianchi," Thea announced, "and he insulted Felicity. He called her a…" She couldn't seem to force herself to say the word.

A man, one Felicity didn't recognize, stepped up beside Oliver and spoke to him in a voice too quiet to be overheard.

Fury lit an already remorseless countenance as Oliver's eyes moved to fasten on Paolo. "Apologize."

"I will not!" The younger man sneered at the very idea.

"Paolo." An older man, a relation of some sort to Paolo Bianchi, walked up to the group. His eyes scanned the lobby, taking in the avid attention from the crowd. A hint of displeasure settled on his face.

"Father," Paolo turned to him. "The Queens are-."

"The Queens, Mr. Bianchi," Oliver interrupted, "are deciding whether or not to take offense at your son's lack of manners."

Paolo took a step forward, embarrassed anger flooding his face. His father's hand shot out and hauled him back. "Mr. Queen," the older man began, "perhaps we might discuss this so we can move beyond the foolish words of an impetuous youth?"

"That may prove difficult," Oliver replied, a growl underlying the smoothness of his words. For a moment Felicity wondered what sort of reputation he had in the elite world of the various organizations. "I do not take kindly to insults given – particularly not when directed at those under my protection." Then he paused. "However, as we are both guests in this place, I am willing to attempt a diplomatic settlement. I have no desire to insult our hosts with a disruption of the peace if another way can be found." He tilted his head and two more people joined them. "Sara, Nyssa, please escort Felicity and Thea back upstairs while I deal with this."

"But-!" Thea started.

"Thea." Felicity's quiet voice interrupted the teenager who fell silent without further prompting. The elder Mr. Bianchi's expression flickered, a hint of respect mingling with the concern. Felicity ignored all of them to look at Oliver. "Shall we hold lunch?"

"Do that." He gave a simple nod. One step brought him in between the women and the Bianchi's. With a deliberate move, he pressed a kiss to Felicity's brow and swept another over Thea's cheek. "Go now."

Felicity put her arms around Thea's shoulders, drawing her towards the elevators. She felt more than saw their security entourage follow them.

"How are you not mad?" Thea demanded as soon as the elevator doors closed. Her hands kept clenching into fists at her side. She ignored the soft whispers being exchanged between Sara and Nyssa behind them.

Felicity swallowed, pressing her eyes closed for a moment before opening them to meet the girl's gaze and answering in a steady tone. "What makes you think I'm not?"

The teenager gaped at her for a moment before throwing up her hands. "Look at you!" she exclaimed, pointing at Felicity. "You're all collected and…and…" She shook her head. "Okay, so you're a little pale under the blush from Oliver's kiss – and don't think we won't talk about that later – but that's it! I'd be…hell, I am spitting mad!"

"It's nothing I haven't heard before."

The calm statement brought conversation to a halt. Three pairs of eyes focused on Felicity who merely lifted a brow in question.

Thea's jaw snapped shut before she spoke once more. "Excuse me?"

"From whom, Miss Felicity?" Nyssa's cool voice inquired. Sara tilted her head, curiosity plain, though she remained quiet.

Felicity raised a hand and pushed her glasses up just enough to pinch the bridge of her nose. "Think, if you please," she sighed. "Thea, I know you remember our first meeting." The younger woman ducked her head, but Felicity continued. "And you know Oliver's reputation."

"But that was before!" Thea protested, though Felicity saw Sara flinch.

"Yes, it was," Felicity agreed. "That doesn't change what most people are going to think." Her lips curved into a wry sort of smile before she reached out and tucked a lock of hair behind Thea's ear. "I've been called everything from a gold digger to a slut to a whore." She tried to shrug it off. "Never to my face before, I'll admit, but the words have been out there."

"Have you told Oliver?" Sara asked.

"I doubt he's unaware of the situation," she replied.

"That's not what I asked."

The elevator doors opened, sparing Felicity any further need to reply. She hurried out of the elevator, her attention focused on her bedroom.

"Felicity?"

Thea's questioning voice drew her to a stop, but she didn't turn around. "I need a few minutes, Thea, please. Just give me a few minutes."

"Are you okay?"

The tremor in the teenager's tone, half-buried but there, brought her attention around and she managed a smile. "I'll be fine."

"You're avoiding the question," Thea told her, "but I get it. Go ahead. We'll hold lunch for you, okay?"

Felicity's smile wobbled a bit and she blinked. "I…I…" With a quick shake of the head, she spun around and rushed into her room. Her back hit the closed door as she all but fell into it, no longer able to remain composed. Hot tears – of anger, of shame – burned her eyes and she slid down until she curled up on the floor. They began to fall, first one, then the next until a steady stream of the salty liquid trickled down her cheeks.

She didn't know how long she sat there before a knock on the door startled her to her feet. Her hand reached for the doorknob and then paused. How could she let anyone see her like this? Leaning forward, she rested her forehead and the door and tried to find some composure.

"Felicity?" It was Oliver. "Open the door, Солнышко."

For all its tenderness, she could hear the command in his voice. Her hand shook, but she moved back and opened the door. She kept her eyes downcast, knowing he could see the signs of her tears. He bit off a word in Russian that she could guess was a curse before he stepped up close, crowding her back into her room. The door closed behind him although she wasn't sure if he did it or if someone else pulled it shut.

"Felicity?"

She turned away, managing to take one step before he caught her arms. Her voice even sounded off, thin and stretched. "Oliver, I can't-." The word broke off and she shook her head.

His hands, callused and scarred, drew her back against him. Fine tremors began to course through her as her shoulders came flush against his chest. Tears began to pool once more as his hands moved to allow him to encircle her in his arms. "Felicity."

The tears spilled over. "I…" She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep, shuddering breath. "I know what people say," she managed to push out, though her voice quavered. "I know, but... The whispers and the reports and the stuff people put online…it's all real, it's all there, but this is the first-." She cut herself off to swallow a sob. His arms tightened, but he remained silent. "They don't come right out and throw it in my face!"

"Мне очень жаль," he replied, his breath stirring the hair by her ear as he bent his head. "I'm sorry that this has touched you."

"I shouldn't be here, Oliver." She didn't fight his hold, but she turned her head away in an attempt to create some distance. "I don't belong-."

"Нет." The one word snapped out of him, interrupting her before she could finish.

"I don't-."

"I said, no."

"Oliver-," she started.

"You belong." This time the voice held more of a growl than a snap. His arms released her and she almost stumbled as the support vanished. Strong hands caught her and turned her to look at him. The face staring down at her could have been hewn from stone, so hard and remote in its expression. Only the eyes seemed alive, intense as ever, but with another look shining through. Something burned in them, something that made her catch her breath. Those same hands, almost bruising in their hold on her arms, moved up to frame her face with a gentleness at odds with that carven face. "Don't let one man's words make you doubt this."

"He's not the only one," she protested. "He's just the only one who's dared to say it to me."

"It will not be said again."

"Oliver…" Her voice trailed off and she stared at him. Her hands came up to rest at his waist. "Oliver, what did you do?"

One thumb brushed over her cheek, wiping at the tear tracks she knew streaked there. "I made your position in this family clear," he told her. "Bianchi wants to offer his personal apology on behalf of his organization." A shudder ran through her and his hands tightened. "If you will take it, then it will be public as was the insult." He shook his head. "But it is up to you."

"I…I don't want to see him," she admitted, "but…it would be better for all of us, wouldn't it?"

"It doesn't matter. If you don't want-."

"No," she interrupted. Felicity closed her eyes for a moment and worked to collect herself. She pushed away the anger and fear and even the feel of his hands where they still rested against her skin. Once she thought she could handle it, she opened her eyes, giving him a serious look. "It would be better for the family, so yes, I will meet him."

"I will be with you," he told her, approval filling his gaze.

Relief caused her shoulders to slump. That meant she just needed one last bit of information. "You said you made my 'position' clear," she noted. "How so?"

"I explained you were Walter's technical advisor," he answered, "and Mother's assistant in her charity work." He shook his head when she began to speak and her mouth snapped closed. "I pointed out you were one of my sister's best friends."

Felicity couldn't remain silent. "Oliver, I'm not-."

"Why do you not see it?" he demanded. "Why do you not see your own worth?"

"I know who I am," she replied, sidestepping his question. "I'm an I.T. girl who tripped over something unexpected and got in over her head. Thanks to some connections I spent the majority of the time ignoring, I found a safe haven with some wonderful people." She licked her lips. "But I also know who I will be."

His eyes darkened as they focused on her lips before tracing up her face to capture her gaze. "And who will you be?"

"I'll be back to being that I.T. girl." She tried for a smile, precarious as it was. "Just another person in the office."

"You will never be 'just another person'," he denied, the words sharp and hot as he spit them out. She began to speak, but he cut her off. "Never." He bent his head and captured her mouth with his.

Felicity's hands tightened, her eyes falling shut at the unexpected sensations assaulting her senses. Oliver kissed the same way he lived – direct, aggressive, and unapologetic. His hands moved back as he tangled his fingers in her hair. Using their new position, he angled her head for better access to her mouth. The sense of him surrounded her, enveloped her. It seemed possessive, the sheer power in the kiss just short of cruel, and yet…and yet she couldn't remember a time she felt so protected, cherished even. She could feel the heat of him burning through her fear, but also through her own personal walls. The attraction and the trust that already existed between them began to spark into something more, something deeper than she could have ever imagined.

He pulled back, staring down at her as she blinked open hazy eyes. "You are not 'just another person'," he repeated. "And you will always belong to us."

"Who…?" Her voice failed and she had to clear her throat before she could manage a whisper. "Who am I to you?"

"Моя." His voice left no room for argument. "Mine."

_**Russian Translations:**_

_Искры - Sparks_

_Солнышко - Sunshine/Little sun_

_Мне очень жаль - I am sorry._

_Нет - No_

_Моя - Mine_


	6. понять

_Author's Note: This story takes place on the same night as Искры. As Felicity prepares herself for dinner, each step reinforces her acceptance by the Queen family even as it deepens their claim on her._

**понять**

Felicity's mind still whirled hours later as she tried to find something appropriate to wear to dinner. Oliver's claim stunned her. He meant it – she saw that in his eyes. How had that happened? How had she become so important to this dangerous, possessive man? And what did she want to do about it…him…them? Her eyes closed for a moment and her fingertips came up to touch her lips.

She could still feel that kiss.

Her breath flowed out of her and she leaned against the door jamb, staring blankly into the closet.

Oliver Queen. She'd heard of him from the moment she arrived at Queen Consolidated as a new graduate and excited to be in California – though that hadn't been the first time she heard the name. The son of one of most powerful families in town, he disappeared two years earlier along with his father – and the younger sister of his on-again, off-again girlfriend. It made headline news across the country, even in Massachusetts. The networks salivated of the story of the disappearance of a multibillionaire and his heir – especially since the heir provided such a dissolute lifestyle for them to pick over. She might have paid more attention if she kept closer contact with her Irish connections, but at the time she'd still been avoiding most ties with that side of her heritage.

Three years after her start at QC, Oliver's return blazed through the company. Everyone sat on pins and needles for the first couple of months, sure his return meant a shakeup, but their fears were put to rest when he reconfirmed Walter Steele as CEO. Then the gossips got started. There seemed to be no end to the tales they came up with for his disappearance, his lifestyle, and what he was doing with his time.

None of them even came close.

She didn't know everything of course – Oliver held many secrets – but she'd learned a great deal about the Queen family. Robert Queen had been Bratva as well, though nowhere near a Captain – more of a contactor or supplier. Moira's family traced their service to the Italian mafia, as did Walter. It almost made her laugh. All that time and trouble to stay out of the Irish mob despite her family connections and she fell straight into a family blending Russian and Italian families.

Oliver though…

His missing five years remained a taboo subject – no one asked and he didn't discuss it. She didn't think that was healthy, but it wasn't her place to argue with him…though today's events might bring that into question. And yet, despite the silence over the whole topic, some clues and offhand remarks made a few things clear. Oliver no longer lived a party lifestyle, avoiding the drinking and the women who used to take up his spare time. His scars and tattoos shocked his friends and family. He returned with the rank of Captain, the highest possible rank in the Bratva save the leader himself and a rank previously unattained by any American. A strange mix of people returned with him, all warriors and all loyal to him – among them Dig, Sara, and Nyssa.

Then there was the Russian.

According to Thea, they learned some basic Russian from Raisa as they grew up, but it wasn't much – barely enough to manage simple conversations. All of that changed for Oliver – when he came back he spoke fluent Russian, using it without thinking. His exclamations, his curses – they almost never came in English any longer. Felicity knew it was more than that – he used Russian when speaking to her, and his voice held nothing of a curse when he spoke. Rather…it held a seduction, whether he intended it or not.

Солнышко.

She still didn't know what it meant, but the word pulled at her. If someone asked her before all of this about romantic accents, Russian would not have made her list…but now… With him, as his voice drifted between a growl and a rumble, a tremor would travel up her spine and she felt her entire being focus on him. Beyond this though, something in how he included her, even to the point of seeking her advice, gave her a sense of belonging she had not felt since she was a little girl.

Моя.

Mine. She knew that word now. Oliver claimed her…intended to claim her – however it worked in the Bratva. He'd promised her his protection, then informed her she would forever have a place in his home, but none of it touched the depth of this one word. It should probably raise her hackles, and yet…it didn't. He came to her with questions, not demands. Their interactions never made her feel like a subordinate, but rather like a partner. Only in questions of her safety did he become stubborn and insistent. She didn't feel lesser – she felt…cherished, protected.

A sudden knock on the door brought her back to the present with a jump.

"Felicity?" Moira's voice came into the room.

She hurried out. "Mrs.-," The older woman lifted a brow and Felicity cleared her throat. "Moira."

"Better, dear," Moira smiled. "Perhaps one day soon we will get you to the point of not needing the reminder." She looked behind her and accepted a dress package from Raisa. "I know we were unable to get out for the afternoon, but I arranged for this. I think it should work quite well for you." Her lips curved into a tolerant smile. "Even Thea thought it 'workable'."

"There was no need-," Felicity began.

"There was every need," Moira interjected in a firm tone. She laid the dress over a chair and moved forward to put her hands on Felicity's shoulders. "You are a part of our household and we have an image to uphold." Something flashed in her eyes, both hot temper and cold determination mingling together. "When you appear on my son's arm tonight, there will not be one person there who will dare to question your right to be present." A flush darkened Felicity's cheeks and the older woman shook her head even as she stepped back. "You are not some poor cousin or a charity case for us, dear. We intend to make a statement that no one will risk questioning."

Felicity met her eyes and nodded. "Thank you," she replied, one hand moving to rest on the as yet unseen dress.

"Excellent!" Moira's social smile reappeared and she moved towards the door. "We will be leaving in an hour, dear." She turned just before walking out. "Oh, and Oliver asked me to make sure you didn't wear a necklace."

She pulled out the dress, a gasp escaping from her. The deep red stunned with its vibrancy while the long flowing skirt would hint at the length of legs hidden beneath. A frown furrowed her brow. "Shoes," she muttered, turning back to the closet. Hanging the dress on the door, she began to go through her shoes. To be honest, she had no idea where half of these shoes came from; they had not come with her. They just appeared in her closet from time to time and the one time she'd tried to protest led to such hurt looks from both Thea and Raisa that she'd backed down.

All of the Queens seemed intent on spoiling her.

She stepped out of the closet with a pair she thought would be perfect as another knock came on the door. Thea didn't wait for her to answer the door before waltzing in with a grin. Her eyes flickered from the dress to the shoes in Felicity's hands. "Perfect!" she clapped her hands. "Absolutely perfect!"

"I'm glad you approve." Felicity could not repress a smile at the teenager's enthusiasm.

"I do!" Thea announced with a smug smile. "And I am going to do your hair."

"Oh, but-."

"Nope," she shook her head. "No excuses! Trust me, you'll love it."

Felicity gave in. It was all a matter of choosing her battles, and this one wasn't worth the time and effort. Letting Thea do her hair wouldn't hurt anyone. She sat down on one of the chairs in order to let her young friend go to work. "All right," she said. "Do your thing."

Thea worked on her hair, quick and quiet, which seemed at odds with the girl's usual behavior, but she didn't respond to Felicity's overtures, so the blonde decided to wait until she finished. It took twenty-minutes before Thea seemed satisfied, but she stepped back with a smile. "There," she nodded. "Done."

"Are you alright?" Felicity asked, not yet looking at the mirror.

"Yes," Thea replied, a confused frown slipping over her lips. "Why?"

Felicity shrugged. "You were quiet," she admitted. "It seemed…off."

"That's how I work," the girl began laughing. "I get really focused and it kind of shuts off my chatterbox."

"As long as nothing's wrong," Felicity smiled, turning towards the mirror. She stopped, eyes going wide as she caught her reflection. Her blonde hair erupted in curls, all of them cascading down her back like a golden waterfall. Thea arranged the front and sides by pulling them back with combs and pins to create a sophisticated image. The combination made a beautiful, mysterious style to leave people guessing. "Wow," she breathed.

"I am the best," Thea grinned, her self-assured look firmly in place.

"This is amazing!"

"I know," she agreed. "Now, keep the makeup light, but be sure to emphasize the eyes and lips. Then get dressed." She hastened for the door. "Speaking of which, I need to get myself put together." Opening the door, she glanced back over her shoulder. "Oh, no necklace, but any other jewelry should be silver."

Felicity blinked as the door closed behind the whirlwind of Thea. "What is it with the necklace?" she murmured. Giving herself a good shake, she went to work on finishing her ensemble. The time to leave grew nearer, but she refused to think about it, focusing all of her attention on her preparations. As she drew on her shoes, another knock drew her eye to the door. "Come in?"

"Miss Felicity," Nyssa stepped inside the room, closing the door behind her.

"Good evening, Nyssa," she smiled. "How are you?"

"Quite well, thank you." The dark-haired woman perched on the seat across from her. "I wanted to talk to you for a moment before you go to dinner."

"Of course," Felicity nodded. She finished getting her shoes on and then turned to face her guest. "What can I do for you?"

"Take these." Nyssa handed her two knives with odd looking sheathes.

"What?" Felicity accepted them, but held them away from herself. Her eyes, wide and staring, focused on Nyssa.

"These are to give you a sting no one will expect."

"I don't-!" Felicity bit off her exclamation, dropping the knives on the small table next to her.

"My job is to keep you safe," Nyssa told her. She picked up one of the knives and knelt in front of Felicity. Pulling back the skirt to bare Felicity's lower left leg. With quick, deft movements she fastened the sheath and then brushed the skirt back into place. "The other fits on your right thigh."

"I'm not…I can't…"

"You can," Nyssa insisted. Her voice never changed level or pitch, but somehow Felicity could hear the increased fervor of her words. "Though I intend to allow no harm to come to you, I will be happier if I know you have a hidden bite."

"But I don't know how to use these," Felicity insisted.

A smile flickered over Nyssa's face. "Training will come later if you desire. For now you simply need to have the power of surprise. Any moment you can buy gives me an extra moment to reach your side."

"But…why?"

"Every member of the family shall be accompanied by a guard, though we shall remain in the shadows. Mr. Queen received this permission from the leader given the hostility the family has already faced."

"You mean me," Felicity noted, a hint of sorrow touching her voice.

Nyssa lifted a brow. "It hardly matters which member of the family," she replied, "though Miss Thea also expressed concern. Sara shall see to her safety while Dig continues to protect Mr. Queen. Mr. Steele and Mrs. Queen have their usual guards as well."

"Generally I get whichever guard is free," Felicity pointed out, her mind still stumbling over the need for knives and guards at all. The idea of wearing knives made her shaky.

"This was before." Nyssa pursed her lips. "If we had been paying better attention to Mr. Queen's actions, we would have made sure to assign you guards specifically chosen for you and your activities. There will be some changes made when we return to our own city. For now I will see to your well-being."

Felicity blinked at her, startled by the entire situation. She couldn't wrap her mind around all of the new revelations being tossed at her today.

"Can you manage the other?" Nyssa asked, one hand touching the second knife. "I will leave you to it if so."

"Yes, yes I can manage."

Nyssa nodded and slipped away.

Felicity sat there for a long moment, letting everything turn over in her mind. Nothing had been in her control for months, but now it spun faster and faster beyond her reach. Her lips trembled – should it scare her? Sometimes it scared her, but then something would happen that made her feel at ease once more. The up and down of the entire situation made her dizzy.

_How is this my life?_

She took the knife and managed to get it in place. Rising to her feet, she let the skirt fall back into place and then stepped over to the full length mirror to check her appearance one last time. Everything seemed to be ready, so she took a deep breath and moved towards the exit. Time to join the party. All eyes turned as she opened the door.

"Felicity, dear," Moira moved to greet her as she stepped out. "You look wonderful!"

"Thank you," she smiled, a light blush of color dusting her cheeks. "The dress is beautiful."

"The dress is only as good as its model," Walter informed her, moving to Moira's side. "Oliver and I shall be quite the most envied men this evening with three such enchanting ladies at our side."

"Walter's the best with compliments," Thea giggled.

"Because I always tell the truth," Walter insisted, offering an arm to each of the Queen women. "Now do allow me to escort you both downstairs and we shall let Oliver and Felicity have a moment."

"Thank you."

Oliver's voice came from directly behind her at the same moment his hands settled on her upper arms. Walter nodded and the three of them withdrew. Felicity remained still, waiting for Oliver to make the first move. He waited as the guards followed the others, leaving them alone in the room. Then he released her, moving around so he stood in front of her. His eyes raked over her.

"Ты такая красивая." The rumble in his voice sent a shiver through her. One corner of his lips pulled into a self-satisfied little smirk. He knew…he knew what the accent did to her. Taking one of her hands, he brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of her knuckles. "Every man shall be jealous of me this night."

"You flatter me," she replied, her own lips curving into a shy smile. "I couldn't have managed without Thea and your mother."

He shook his head. "You could come in jeans and you would still outshine the other women tonight," he told her, his thumb brushing over her fingers. Felicity ducked her head, but his free hand caught her chin. He lifted her head to face him once more. "Do not hide from me, Солнышко моё." He leaned in, but she lifted her hand, planting it firmly on his chest. Oliver lifted a brow, amusement lightening his expression.

"No mussing me up before the dinner." Her shy smile morphed into a playful one, though she felt her heart flutter like butterfly wings as an answering glint began to shine in his eyes.

"Does that mean I can muss you after dinner?"

"Oliver," she drew out his name in a chagrined tone, pushing against him.

He didn't give an inch, teasing humor in his voice. "Are you trying to move me, Котёнок?" Her fingers trembled where they rested on his chest and in his hand. Now his gaze gained a thread of pride. He lifted her hand to his lips once more before releasing her entirely. Striding over to a small table, he picked up a long thin box. "I have something for you."

Felicity watched as he opened the box and drew out a thin silver chain with a ruby pendant. She stood still, letting him move up behind her, and then lifted her hair so he could fasten it. His fingers brushing the back of her neck brought another shiver, and this time he came closer. She released her hair, letting her arms fall back to her side. "May I see?"

"Of course," he pressed a kiss to her hair before turning her to face the mirror.

The ruby and its diamond accent rested against her breastbone, both setting off and set off by the smooth skin left exposed by the décolletage of her dress. She lifted a hand, her fingertips resting on the large red stone. "Oliver," she breathed out as she realized she'd seen almost identical necklaces on both Thea and Moira, though Thea's bore a sapphire and Moira's an onyx.

His hands curled around her arms once more and he met her eyes in the mirror. "There will be no further doubts," he told her, his voice turning grave, "no further questions as to your place in this family. Any who insult you, insult us all."

She twisted in his hold, turning to look up at him as soon as he released her. One of her hands came up to rest against his jaw. "I don't-." Her words cut off as his eyes darkened. "Let me finish," she told him in a quiet voice. He nodded, though his face remained stern and unyielding. "I don't know how to thank everyone for this day."

"Do not," Oliver advised. "You are ours, Солнышко моё." He reached up to press her hand harder to his cheek before turning his head to press a kiss to her palm. Then he lowered her hand, once more brushing his lips over her knuckles. "And we are yours…if you will just accept it."

Felicity closed her eyes, absorbing his words, touched and tempted, but not yet ready to make that final step. She looked up at him, her torn spirit vivid in her eyes. "I…" Her voice trailed off.

"Hush, little one," he told her, the fingers of his free hand sweeping over her cheek. "I shall not force this. I can be patient." He tugged on a wild curl before walking her towards the door, his hand coming to rest on the small of her back. "For now, I shall look forward to showing off my beautiful companion."

She let him lead her from the room, her mind too focused on the choice before her to be worried about the dinner to come. How could a roomful of mobsters compare to the danger of surrendering her heart to this man of secrets and shadows?

Especially since she was almost certain she already had.


End file.
